Flyy Girl (35 page)

They left for Atlantic City early on a Saturday morning. Tracy lied to her mother and said that she would be attending Jantel's cross-country track meet. She knew she was pressing her luck, but she surely was not going to pass up a chance to go to Atlantic City.

When they arrived, Cash counted out three thousand dollars. Tracy pretended as if she was not looking, but Cash knew that she was. The only time she had seen that much money was in the movies.

“You gon' spend all that on me?” she asked with a loose tongue.

“Naw, my sisters wanted some stuff, too.”

Tracy smiled and said, “I know. I was just jokin'.” She felt embarrassed about her hasty comment.

Cash grinned at her and responded, “No you didn't. You really are greedy like that.”

“No I'm not,” she retorted.

They walked ahead toward the casinos. It was cloudy along the beach, and the first three casinos they had entered were wrong.

Tracy whined, “Dag, we gotta walk all way back there.”

“Won't you stop complainin' so much?”

“I don't feel like walkin' all way back there.” She dragged her feet like a child. She wore her white Sixers jacket, black Gloria Vanderbilt jeans and red Reeboks.

“Fuck it. We goin' back home,” Cash teased.

“Sike, Cash, I'm only playin'. God.”

Cash shook his head. “You somethin' else, girl. And you think I'm a sucka', but that's aw'ight.” He looked at her and grinned, thinking about leaving her in “A-C.” “You lucky I like you,” he told her.

“Why?” she asked, confused.

“Oh, don't worry about it now.”

“Don't worry about what?”

“Nothin', girl.”

What is he talking about?
Tracy thought to herself.

They reached the right casino and walked through crowds of gamblers before coming to the Gucci shop. Prices ranged from twenty-five dollars for key chains and umbrellas, on up to the thousands for everything else, including sweaters, jackets, shoes and outfits.

Tracy tried on the sneakers that she wanted. Cash bought them, a pocketbook and a key chain. He bought himself a four-hundred-and fifty-two-dollar sweat suit, along with the items his sisters wanted.

Cash hung around the casinos while he waited for Tracy to use the bathroom. It was a perfect opportunity for him to get away long enough to order a hotel room. Tracy came out of the restrooms to find that Cash was gone. He came walking back with a smile on his face, and Tracy was curious about it. She thought he had snuck off to talk to some other girls who were there.

She asked possessively, “Where did you go?”

Cash lied to her. “Oh, I tried to get in the casino, and dude let me play a few games. But umm, Tracy, what we gon' do when we get back home?”

“I don't know.”

“Well, let's put all these bags inside the jeep and walk around.”

They walked around the casino grounds for another hour, laughing and talking about people. Every now and then, Cash would take a peek or two at Tracy's firm behind. He got her to jump on an elevator to ride up to the eighth floor. They got off to snoop around. Cash then stopped, taking out a key in front of room 812.

Tracy grinned. “Oh, so you got a room, hunh?”

“Yeah, I can't let us go home without celebratin'.” He walked in with a serious face. And it was obvious to Tracy that he wanted something. “Come here and sit on my lap,” he told her.

Tracy did, reluctantly. She didn't like the way that Cash had gone about it.
He should have just told me that he was going to get a room,
she thought to herself.
I don't know why he had to sneak around to
do it.

He looked at Tracy's lips before he kissed her.

Tracy pulled away, disappointed. She wasn't sure if she was up to doing anything with him. She just did not feel like it.

Cash asked her, “What 'chew stop for?”

Tracy sighed, without giving him an answer. She thought about lying to Cash and telling him that her time of the month was around. But she doubted if that would work.
I might as well just get this over with,
she
told herself. She got up and went inside the bathroom to begin taking off her clothes. Cash was shocked! No young-girl had ever been so bold about it. Tracy figured it was the fastest way to get the sexual encounter over with, but Cash felt she was being exotic.

She walked over to the bed, butt-naked, with firm breasts, firm behind and a perfectly curved honey-brown body, and slipped underneath the covers.

Cash took out a three-pack of lubricated LifeStyles.

Tracy watched him. “I'm on the pill,” she announced.

“So, them pills don't stop shit from burnin'.”

“What?” she snapped defensively. “Oh, I ain't got nothin'.”

Cash looked at her as if she was crazy. “Shid', I'on know you like that, girl. Even young-girls burnin' nowadays. I can't take no more chances with my shit, 'cause AIDS is killin' muthafuckas. And the shit that trips me out is that girls don't be knowin' when they're burnin'.”

“You got burned before?”

“What 'chew think?”

There was a moment of silence.

Tracy said, “Well, I don't have anything, and if you feel like that, then we ain't gotta do nothin'.”

Cash retorted, “Yup, and
we
ain't gotta go back home, either.”

Tracy sighed. “Well, come on then,” she said, throwing her head back against the pillow.

Cash looked at the pack of LifeStyles in his hand. “Aw'ight, fuck it,” he said, throwing them on the dresser.

He climbed in bed and went for Tracy's breasts to stimulate himself. Tracy caressed him and guided him inside of her. Cash was shocked by her actions again. He moved in a fury as Tracy ran her fingers over his back, causing his early explosion. He breathed heavily as he released himself, and it was over too fast for Tracy's comfort.

This boy fucks like a rabbit,
she thought as she laid there, disgusted.

Cash was embarrassed. Tracy told him to be calm and try it again, as if she was the more experienced one. They laid there a few minutes. Cash then tried to make it last longer by ignoring how good Tracy felt to him. But it didn't work. He erupted a second time in just minutes.

“DAMN! You got some good shit!” he roared, amazed and embarrassed at the same time.

Tracy laughed and rolled out from under him. “I'm gonna take a shower,” she told him. She giggled to herself while in the shower at how ridiculously quick he was. She ran the soap in between her legs, exciting herself, and dreaming of Victor Hinson. Victor would have made it last. He knew how to control his body and hers. And Tracy loved the way he whispered in her ear, confirming her pleasure every step of the way. He had never been repetitious or whipped like Timmy had been. He always tried something new. Victor made Tracy
feel
everything that lovemaking was supposed to feel like. All that was left for him to do was to tell her that he loved her.

Tracy dried herself to give Cash one more try at pleasing her. She playfully dove back into bed and squeezed his behind, attempting to arouse him again.

Just feeling her cool naked body next to his gave Cash a hard-on. They went at it for a third time. Tracy breathed heavy into his ear, rubbing his hips into hers. And finally, it had lasted long enough for her satisfaction. They laid there, exhausted and wrapped into each other's arms until they eventually fell asleep.

They awoke about seven o'clock that early evening. They redressed to have dinner and returned home before it got too late. They rode in the jeep quietly on the return trip. Cash still felt embarrassed, afraid to ask the “younger-girl” what she was thinking about. He assumed that she was thinking about them.

Tracy looked at him and smiled. “Ay Cash?”

“What?”

“How many girls have you had?”

“Don't worry about it.”

Cash wanted to make up an excuse, but it was nothing that he could say without inflating Tracy's head about her sexuality. She had blown his mind, and most of the respect that she had had for him was lost.

Tracy hopped out of the jeep with her bags at the corner. “Well, I'll see you whenever,” she said.

Cash responded blandly, “Yeah, aw'ight then.” He drove off quickly.

Tracy snuck her bags into the house, stretched out on her bed and was bored with him. She thought about their experience at Atlantic City and cracked herself up. “I
gots
to tell Carmen about this,” she mumbled to herself.

Raheema walked to her classes nervously on Monday morning. It was her big day with Chuck. He had convinced her to pay him a visit, and he was waiting for her after school.

Raheema walked quietly with him to the bus stop. While on the bus, Chuck threw his arm around her neck. She didn't want to break her promise to him, but she was really unsure about things.
You're not even
my boyfriend,
she wanted to tell him. Nevertheless, she was headed with him to his house.

“So what do you wanna do?” Chuck asked with a grin as soon as they had arrived.

“I don't know,” Raheema responded, looking away.

Chuck walked over and sat next to her on the couch.

Raheema jumped up and said, “Excuse me, but I have to go to the bathroom.” She was lying, nervous as a cow in a meat factory. She sat in an empty chair when she returned.

“Why you sit over there?” Chuck asked.

“Oh, I just sat down. Why? Does it make a difference?”

Chuck shook his head at her evasiveness. “Come here and sit on my lap.”

Raheema did.

Chuck then began to caress her breasts.

She hastily grabbed his hands. “Don't.”

“What?” he responded to her, confused.

Raheema asked him innocently, “Why you gotta feel all on me?”

Chuck thought it was agreed upon that they would have sex. He pulled her down by her neck to kiss her, and Raheema could not stop him. They kissed longer than she expected as he caressed her breasts
again. She moaned, feeling herself losing control. Chuck unfastened her bra through her shirt. Raheema then grabbed his head and bit into his high-cut hair.

Chuck pulled his head away from her teeth. “The fuck are you doin'?”

Raheema was embarrassed at her inexperience.

Chuck got up and yanked her hand. “Come on,” he told her, leading her up the stairs and into his room. Raheema's heart was racing like the wind. She even wondered if Chuck could feel it through her hand. He took off his clothing, standing butt-naked and erect as soon as they entered his messy room. And he was quite muscular. He didn't have any scars on his athletically framed body.

Raheema turned to avoid staring at him. Chuck came closer to take her clothing off. Raheema stood terrified as she felt his hot, hard organ, bumping up against her while he took off her clothes. Chuck then tried to move her to the bed, but Raheema would not allow him.

“What's wrong?”

Feeling nauseous, she could no longer take it. She covered her naked, light-skinned body and told him, “I don't wanna do this.”

“Well, what 'chew come over here for?”

Raheema sat on the bed, attempting to redress in a hurry.

Chuck howled, “Naw, fuck that shit! You ain't playin' wit'
my
dick!” He grabbed her, pushing her down on the bed and plying at her legs.

Raheema yelled, “No! Get off of me!”

“Why you come over here and play with me, girl?” Chuck asked, holding her arms down.

Raheema whined, “I'm not. Just get off of me.” She made sure to keep her legs closed.

Chuck tried again to get them open.

Raheema screamed, “HELP! SOMEBODY!”

“Aw, you's a stupid bitch,” he responded, nervously. He didn't want a rape charge on his hands.

Raheema rushed to collect her clothing from the floor. She dressed in a hurry and made a break for the front door.

Chuck roared, “Go ahead and leave, you retarded bitch. I never liked your stupid ass anyway!”

Raheema dashed out of his house and sprinted home in tears, determined not to tell anyone. “It's all my fault for going over there in the first place,” she mumbled. She made sure she straightened up her face before she made it back to her house. She couldn't give her parents any clue about what had happened to her.

I won't try this mess again,
she told herself, glad to have escaped.

Raheema went up to her room and sobbed helplessly into her pillow. She could never be like Mercedes or Tracy. It was too late to be like them. She felt too tense about sex, or relationships in general. Or maybe Chuck was the wrong person. She could feel new bumps already beginning to form under the makeup. She popped them, no longer caring about the scars they would leave. She washed the makeup off to see how unattractive her beautiful skin had become. Mercedes had not seen a bump on her skin. Life wasn't fair, but Raheema decided to hold on instead of joining the fast-paced streets. She had no other choice; she was not prepared to handle it.

“Ay Tracy, tell me when you through with your boyfriend, 'cause I wanna school you.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I'm for real, though.”

“I know, but that don't mean that I'm gonna talk to you.” Tracy walked to her class, wearing her Gucci sneakers and carrying her Gucci bag after dismissing another hopeful at school.

“Well, what do I have to do to attract you?” the boy asked, following her.

Tracy said, “Just be yourself. And if I'm not attracted to you now, I never will be.”

Everyone in “G-Town” high school talked about Tracy. But none of them, except for Timmy, had been able to receive her favor. She had
dyed her hair honey-blonde on top with huge curls. It was long in the back and pointed on the sides. Tracy was
the shit,
and no one could tell her differently.